


Collar and Leash

by nativemossy



Category: Marvel
Genre: Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Disabled Bucky Barnes, Dog Fostering, Dogs, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Service Dogs, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29935941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nativemossy/pseuds/nativemossy
Summary: When Tony realizes his life is going downhill, and is only getting worse, he decides that something needs to change. Somehow this leads him to Helping Paws, a service dog training organization. While fostering a puppy he meets Bucky, the handsome training instructor who is far less intimidating than he looks.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Collar and Leash

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first person to come through here looking to turn their life around.” The scrawny blond rifled through a couple of papers on his desk, making a satisfied little noise when he found a pen under a stack of pamphlets. “Though I have to say, it’s usually college students looking for some structure after freshman year support falls through. I have a feeling you’re gonna get a bit more attention than a twenty-something with a cute dog on Instagram.”

Tony tried for a winning smile, but had a feeling it fell short. Steve, as he had introduced himself, looked like he understood. “If it helps, that’ll probably get you some extra donations, maybe some more volunteers in the door?” 

“I’ll admit, the thought crossed my mind, and I’m certainly not in any sort of position to be refusing help, no matter where it comes from.” Steve looked pensive, peering over the desk at Tony like he was something to be studied. It made him uncomfortable, made him itch under his skin. He wanted to run, leave the room and that building and never come back.

But then Pepper would be disappointed in him, and he hated when she was disappointed in him, so he kept his seat.

“I’d be happy to let you foster, but there’s no shortcuts. You’ll need to follow the rules, make sure the dog is socialized and well cared for, and you’ll need to be back here once a month for a training class.” Tony nodded along to all of this, quickly running through his recollection of the handbook he had skimmed the night before. It seemed doable. “This is a big time commitment. Our college program dogs usually do the best because the kids have more time to dedicate to their training, but some households do well when both partners contribute.” He paused to take a sip of coffee, eyes briefly darting to his own dog curled up on a bed in the corner. It wore a red vest, with a smattering of patches sewn in. The largest was a replica of the “Helping Paws” logo, sewn right in the center back of the vest. “However, it’s not impossible to do on your own. If at any time you feel overwhelmed or like you and the dog aren’t a good match, I want you to contact me immediately and we’ll set up a meeting.” Tony nodded along, feeling a bit like a bobble head as he did so.

“How do I know if the dog isn’t right? It’s just a dog, it’ll adjust.” He regretted saying that as it came out of his mouth. Steve looked like he had smelled something awful, or was repeating something for the nth time.

“Every dog is going to have a different temperament, which will match up differently with different handlers. Some folks work best with a calm and laid back dog, while others work best with a dog with higher energy or a stronger personality. It seems like you might not know what you want yet, so feel free to ask plenty of questions of your trainers and fellow handlers once you and the pup get settled in.” Tony started to feel a bit uncomfortable; it sounded like Steve assumed that this was a done deal. Tony was fostering a dog and that was final. It reminded him a bit of Pepper, of Rhodey, and that realization was what kept him from springing out of his chair and running for the hills. 

Responsibility gives him hives. It’s likely one of the many reasons why Pepper pointed him here instead of whatever inpatient care facility was en vogue that year. Even if it meant he had to relocate to his vacation cabin in butt-fuck nowhere, upstate New York.

“-if you don’t have any questions, then?” Steve had apparently been talking, and was evidently done now. Tony stood up, jamming his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t fidget. 

“No! All good, in fact, more than good!” It was, in fact, not all good. It was not good at all. Tony had no idea what he had just signed up for, actually. He practically moonwalked to the office door, escaping into the lobby where the air felt a little cooler. “So when do I get to see my adorable little charge?” Steve followed him out, his little long-haired dog trotting along just to his left. 

“This Saturday is our next orientation. I’ve gone ahead and added you to the noon session. Try to be about 15 minutes early so we can load your car with the crate and stuff first.” Tony nodded, fumbling for his keys as Steve opened the door for him. “Your meeting will be led by Bucky, who is gonna be your assigned trainer. He’s gonna run through some basic commands with you guys, then let you practice on a trained dog. You’ll talk through some policies and reminders, then you’ll get to pick up your dog from the kennel.”

Tony stepped outside, saying something quick and snappy about being on time, then nearly dashed to his car. Once he was sitting inside, away from prying eyes, he realized that he was going to have to find a bigger car.

“Good afternoon everyone.” There was a faint smattering of replies, and Tony felt like he was transported back to high school again. He could almost smell the mildew. “My name is James Barnes, and for some of you I’ll be your trainer for however long you’ll be spending in the foster trainer program.” James Barnes was a hulking man, who was perched delicately on the edge of a table in the center of the room. At his feet laid a large black dog, who wore a red harness and collar. “Our other head trainer, Natasha, is working with an Advanced Training group today, so it’s just me and Ichor this time.”

Two hours bled by and Tony did his best to focus the entire time. He was a little distracted by both the idea that he was leaving here with a squirmy, wriggly, messy puppy, and by Mr. Barnes’ (“call me Bucky”) impressive musculature. Also, it was hard not to be impressed with his dog.

“Ichor is my multipurpose service dog. He acts as a physical buffer, as well as grounding for my PTSD and mobility assistance to compensate for my arm. He graduated from our Advanced Training program about five years ago.” With this he gestures towards his hoodie sleeve, that with a closer look appears to be a bit less bulky, more static, and smoother than its twin. “He is out of his gear right now, so he isn’t working. I’m going to let you all have a shot at handling him through some basic commands, and if need be we’ll demo some corrections.” He stood and the dog stood with him, abandoning the toy he was chewing on. “If you’ll open those treat bags you got with your paperwork, we’ll just have him go down the line across the room.” 

Bucky fielded questions from the front of the room as Ichor made his way from person to person. Occasionally he would cut off a conversation to offer a gentle correction, or to demonstrate the right hand gesture. Tony sat in his uncomfortable metal chair, feeling strangely nervous as the large dog creeped closer.

“Here, take him.” A young girl, probably college aged offered the leash to him. Ichor still had his eyes on her, specifically on the treat bag in her hands. Tony stood and took it, shaking his own bag to get the dog’s attention. Feeling a bit silly, he took out a long strip and broke off a piece. He prompted Ichor through a couple of commands, but ground to a halt when the trained service dog wouldn’t stand for him.

“Hey, hey, look,” Bucky stood up, approaching slowly. “You’ve got the right hand gesture but you’re waving it all around and confusing him. Just take it easy, he’s not gonna bite you.” God, that was mortifying. The whole room looked on as Tony tried one more time under the careful eye of the trainer. Ichor slowly heaved himself off the floor, and Tony couldn’t help but feel like the dog was doing this out of spite. Or something. 

Training wrapped up fairly quickly after that, and before Tony knew it he was standing in the back of a long hallway waiting for his puppy to be brought to him. He looked again at the little discharge sheet, feeling halfway between nervous and excited. Mostly he felt like he wanted to throw up.

“Clint Eastwood” from the famous actors themed litter, was a nine week old golden retriever puppy. He had no idea what to expect, and as more and more people left with their dogs he felt woefully unprepared. Would it be housebroken? Would it know his name? Tony hadn’t even bought toys for it yet, let alone treats. What if it didn’t like the house? (oh god, what if it peed all over his house?) Or cried all the way home? Or, shit, what about crate training?

He was so wrapped up in overthinking a damn dog that he didn’t even notice Bucky standing next to him until the man cleared his throat, grinning at Tony’s inattention. “Nervous?” He asked, absently petting Ichor between the ears. 

Tony’s first instinct was to hotly deny any and all nervousness. No sir, he was as calm and confident as could be. If he could handle rocket science while on a three day bender, he could handle training a dog. He then remembered that this man was going to be his first resource for said dog, and he’d be seeing him at least once a month for the next long while. So he worked to dial his pride back just a bit. “I’m not nervous.” Bucky didn’t look convinced. “I’m just thinking about what toys to buy.” Nice save, totally plausible.

“There’s a good guide in the handbook for some brands to try, but the best thing you can do for yourself is get some toys you can stuff with peanut butter.” Ichor perked up at hearing peanut butter, and Bucky fondly tugged at his ear. “Kongs are everyone’s go-to, but there are some others out there too. It’ll help a lot with crate training and the late night crazies some puppies get. In general we don’t allow any squeakers or stuffed toys, but there are some great hard bone toys for teething as well.” He clapped Tony on the shoulder with a small smile, gesturing to the door opening at the end of the hallway. “You’ll do just fine I think.”

Bounding down the hallway at the end of a green leash was one of the roundest, furriest puppies Tony had ever seen. He was half convinced they were trying to pass him off with a bear cub instead of a dog. The little white dog obviously had no such concerns about Tony, considering how he bowled right through his legs and almost knocked him to the floor. 

“Sorry about Clint! He’s pretty excited to meet new people!” A young woman apologetically passed off the leash, grinning as Tony knelt down to meet the dog. The same dog who immediately engulfed his forearm with his mouth, his tail helicoptering a mile a minute. “Yeah, he likes to do that. Just tell him no and get his mouth off. He’s one of those pups that like to hold your arm when they’re excited.” Tony already felt out of his depth, mechanically unhinging the puppy’s jaw from his hoodie. Unphased, Clint then did his best to crawl into his lap, getting a healthy coating of white hair all over his nice jeans. Perfect.

“Alright, he’s all yours!” She exclaimed, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. “We’ve been doing photos for the facebook group of new pairs. If you can get him sitting up we’ll snap a picture and you can be on your way!” Tony tried not to be too annoyed as he levered the dog upright in his lap, flashing a peace sign with the hand not clamped around Clint’s chest. If he thought about it as a good fundraising opportunity for the organization it was easier to stomach. Also, they were doing it for all of the dog pairs, so it was almost like he was just a normal guy doing his good deed for the year.

Almost. Not entirely.

“Good luck, Tony.” Bucky opened the door for him to step outside. “You have all the staff emails if you need help with anything. I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.” And with that, Tony was out on his ass with nothing but his wits and a puppy. A puppy who was doing his damned best to gnaw through some scrap of plastic he found on the ground. Fuck.

The dog was whining. Had been whining since he had pulled out of the parking lot. He also radiated the distinctive stink of old vomit, and they still had thirty minutes left in their hour long car ride. 

Tony still hadn’t bought dog toys. Fuck.

He ran through a couple of plans internally, his heart pounding frantically as the whining reached a new, ear-bleeding pitch. He could stop at the pet store on the way home, but Clint wasn’t fully vaccinated, so that would be tricky. He couldn’t put it off long enough to wait for an online order, seeing as all he had was a kennel, one single dog bowl, and half a bag of food. 

“Think you can handle an hour home alone, bud?” Yes, he realized he was talking like the dog was going to respond, but at this point it was all he could do to keep from making a U-turn and racing back to HQ to give him back. Rambling to a dog aside, leaving him home in his crate was a pretty solid plan. He could go and get supplies, and take a second to figure out where his head was at without worrying about what Clint was getting into.

That settled, the drive went a little quicker, at least in Tony’s mind. It was still another mind-numbing half hour of whining and the tinny sound of the generic car radio because he didn’t have enough time to install the better bluetooth speakers. Just another thing to add to his growing to do list.

“Ok so what’s the difference…” Tony mumbled, comparing two bones that for all he could see were the same exact thing, except for the fact that one rang up five dollars extra. Not that he was strapped for cash, he could afford to buy out the whole store and it would barely dent his checking account, but he was a bit addled, definitely stressed, and honestly curious about the difference between one “Wishbone Super Teething Toy” and “HealthyBone Wishbone Chew Toy”

“If you want it to last, get the HealthyBone,” Tony jumped, almost flinging one of the hard toys at whoever the fuck decided to scare him half to death in the middle of the damn Petco. 

Bucky stood at the end of the aisle, holding his hand up in surrender as his dog calmly looked on. Ichor had a red vest on now, very similar to the vest Steve’s tiny dog had, just scaled up several times larger. And with significantly less patches. That was a shame, Tony had rather liked the one that said “Oh my god Karen, you can’t just ask people why they’re disabled.” 

While Tony was very busy gaping, Bucky walked further into the aisle. He passed a bag of treats to Ichor with an absent “Hold it.” He grabbed a translucent bone off the rack, then pointed to a strange, bulbous toy made of rubber. “You’re gonna want to go for softer toys while he’s teething. If the packaging says it’s for teething it’s probably good, but these rubber toys are also good for filling with treats or ice if you need a second for yourself.” He passed the bone to Tony, then noticed he had a basket in the crook of his arm and grinned. “You’ll also want one of these,” He picked up a toy that looked like a mix between children’s toy keys and a pacifier. That went in the basket. “Maybe a couple of these,” He dropped a sample pack of nylon dog bones into the basket that boast to be the most flavorful and chewable around. Tony spotted the words ‘ice cream sundae flavor’ and did his best to pretend he had never seen it. 

Bucky plucked the teething toy out of his hands and popped it into the basket, then set the other doy back on it’s hook. “Wait, I thought the HealthyBone was good?” Bucky was standing very close, and Tony was not immune to the charms of a man in leather. 

“It is, but for a dog with its adult teeth. Clint isn’t going to have all his teeth for a while, so you’re gonna want something a little softer on his gums.” He considered the wall of toys for a long moment and Tony just stood there, feeling a bit wrong-footed and unsure what to say. Bucky didn’t seem to need too much commentary, as he apparently came to a decision and tossed a small double-ended cone shaped toy into the basket. “He’ll outgrow that quickly, but I heard Clint say that he has a pretty strong chew so he’ll get his use out of it.”

“Clint the dog told you that?” Tony laughed, shaking his head as Bucky looked confused. His face flattened into realization.

“Oh, no, sorry,” He laughed, shaking his head. “I meant Clint the human. He works as our afternoon Kennel Manager, and likes to hang out with the puppies a lot. You’ll probably see him when you come for class, he and his dog Lucky like to come distract everyone.” He shook his head, then looked down at Ichor like he had completely forgotten what he was doing. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to hijack your shopping trip, Tony.” He actually looked contrite at this. It was a cute look on him, if Tony was honest with himself. “Get what you want, I was just suggesting-”

“Hey, no worries, right?” Tony chanced a friendly nudge with his elbow, and when that didn’t seem to make anything worse he relaxed. “I’ve never had a dog before, so any help is good help. Any advice on treats?”

Bucky looked relieved, his shoulders dropped with the dissipation of tension Tony hadn’t even known was there. He motioned for Tony to follow him as he led Ichor back out of the aisle. “Ok, so, you’re gonna need to figure out what treats are high value for Clint…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for context I am a volunteer trainer for a SDiT and yes this is me continuing to project my life onto marvel characters
> 
> hmu on tumblr, twitter, or dreamwidth. I've got the same user all three places, and would love to hear from some of you


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